The momentary spike of rage ebbs into a palpable knot of cold fury. An emotion more familiar to the cold-blooded creature.
Feh..I begin to forget myself. Perhaps pinkskins are not as weak as 'the people' thought they were. Perhaps the ones i hunt with are worthy of some respect but.. I AM lizardkin.. and must remember 'my people' belong to a balance while these.. pinkksins.. easily upset it with their ignorance and embrace corruptive magic..... I CANNOT become attached to them...packmates though they are.. and i cannot take on their weaknesses as well
Although still standing before the tall strangely smelling pinkskin, his shoulders drop and the lizardkin seems less aggressive.
Yet the loss and anger I hold do not seem any less
His brows furrow.
His attention is diverted by a smaller pinkskin a short distance behind the one he blocks. Like the small scarred one with the spirit of a wolverine, this one has a big snout as well.
His eyes widen as it sheathes it weapon and stands close and begins talking in draconic.
It can't come above my hip but here it stands fearlessly while unarmed within reach of one such as I
He glances at a clawed hand, which he finds himself lowering, before turning to it and replying:
Do all big-snouteded pinkskins carry this muchf coutrage?, he muses.
As his awareness shifts to the presents and away from his emotions, he realises that his instincts are guiding him away from where the strangers had come from.
Remembering that the strangers were fleeing from some creature called 'drow' in pinkspeech. He could not recall any beast which bore that name as part of the balance.
While he felt no fear, a glance behind reminds him his packmates were in dire need of rest. Sethra's death was a certainty.. but it would be delayed for now.
*The lizardkin turns and marches to the back of his group after looking at Thokk and starts to trudge onwards. He stops to lock his eyes on Fizahn and indicates Thokk before marching into the gloom *